


No Rest for the Weary

by FantasticKath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Baby's First Fanfic, Non-Canonical, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 21:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10522419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticKath/pseuds/FantasticKath
Summary: Just my headcanon on Obi-Wan's life after the fall of the Jedi Order. It's my first fanfic, I hope you like it!





	

He was just so tired.  
Physically, there wasn’t anything wrong with him. His few wounds from his intense duel with Ana-  
No. From his duel with Darth Vader. There was no Anakin anymore.

His wounds had healed now, but his exhaustion lingered.

Obi-Wan was at a loss for what he should do now that he has to start over _again _.__  
It amazed him how similar his current situation is to how it was back when Master Qui-Gon was murdered.  
Again, he had lost his only source of guidance and the galaxy seems darker than ever.  
Again, he had lost the person closest to him, his only confidant, his only family.  
Again, he kept replaying the final fight over in his mind, trying to find a path that leads to a different outcome, any other outcome-  
Again, he finds himself bound to a child. Another Skywalker.  
He will do better this time.  
He must.

__Tattooine was just as hot, windy, and unpleasant as Obi-Wan remembered from his last time on the desert planet. It was unsafe to stray too close to the cities yet, as the destruction of the Jedi Order was still fresh in people’s minds, and a sudden newcomer would attract unwelcome attention. Besides, you couldn’t really call them cities anyway. The word city calls to mind the towering structures of Coruscant, not the miserable hovels made of mud that stood here. He found a trader on the outskirts that barely looked at him when he dared asked the prices of her wares and haggled for supplies there. If Obi-Wan was truly going to stay on this forgotten rock of a planet then he would have to deal exclusively with people who didn’t ask questions.  
It wasn’t all bad. He had found shelter in what seemed to be an abandoned dwelling carved out of the side of some cliffs, far enough away from civilization that he would not be sought after. During the day he worked to make the place inhabitable again. He meditated at least twice a day, once as soon as he woke up from his restless, troubled sleep, and once when he had finished his chores and eaten. Anakin had spoken rarely of Tattooine, as it reminded him of his enslavement there, and of his mother, but he had once mentioned missing the beauty of the twin sunsets. _There is nothing like it in the whole universe, _he had said wistfully, staring out the small porthole window of the passenger ship speeding it’s way to their next mission. Staring out over the dunes as the sky blazed more shades of red, orange, and purple than Obi-Wan had previously known ever existed, he had to agree.___ _

____ _ _

____Living in what basically amounts to a cave means that you’re always busy. There are animals to be caught and cooked, windows and shelves to carve out of the rock, unfriendly neighbors to be dealt with (and killed if nothing else works), clothes to be mended, drippy ceilings to be fixed if possible, and the floor always need sweeping, but at night, when there was nothing else to do but stare up into the darkness because sleep would not come, Obi-Wan still could not keep his mind from drifting back to what had happened, how quickly everything had fallen apart._ _ _ _

____He asked himself how he didn’t notice. His padawan, his friend had turned away from everything they valued, everything they had fought for and trained for, right under his nose and he somehow didn’t notice?_ _ _ _

____It couldn’t be that simple._ _ _ _

____He asked himself how he could have noticed. Everything had been a secret, secrets within secrets, and so much else had been going on that needed his full attention and devotion. Secrets had to be put aside when everything good stands to be lost, right? Besides, Jedi don’t have any need for secrets._ _ _ _

____Sith do._ _ _ _

____He supposed it didn’t matter now._ _ _ _

____ _ _

______The first time he had tried to visit, Owen Lars had made it explicitly clear that Obi-Wan was to stay away. _Haven’t you killed enough Skywalkers? Go away and stay away, for our sake and for yours._  
Obi-wan obeyed his wishes, for the most part. At this point most people knew him as Ben Kenobi, the hermit from the dunes, and left him well enough alone. He came to town rarely, traded with the local businesses, and kept his head down. In a place as small as the local outposts, even if you don’t know everyone around, you at least know of them, and so he tried to make as inconspicuous as an impression as possible. The fewer people that knew of him, the better.  
He had to make sure that the last Skywalkers at least knew of him, though. He knew it was risky, foolish, selfish, even, and definitely not something a Jedi would do, but it was the one selfishness he would allow himself. He managed to justify it to himself as protection. If the remaining Skywalkers ever needed aid, he wanted them to think of him first. He was their protection, and always would be.  
There was no doubt that the girl would be kept in the dark about his existence. Her new family would raise her on tales of the Jedi order, the old ways, and the way they shaped new politics. The boy, however, was a different story. The Jedi would be myths to him, fairy tales. Owen and Beru couldn’t shield him from knowing about them, but they could and would present them as nonsense, as something of the past. Maybe it was better that way. The Force would be with them, no matter what they thought about it’s existence.  
Anyway, Owen was right. He had killed enough Skywalkers.  
It was Vader he was worried about.  
There were Stormtroopers on every planet by now. They were easy to avoid and even easier to manipulate, but Obi-Wan still worried. His only comfort was that Darth Vader knew nothing of the children’s existence. For all he knew, they died with their mother.  
So many things had. Too many things had. All he could do was pray that it was her nature that lived on in her children, and not their father’s.  
Over the years since the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire, Obi-Wan had gotten very good at blocking out the past. As far as he knew, he was the last of the Jedi, so it fell to him to keep the old ways alive. He practiced combat constantly, recorded as much history and knowledge as he possessed, and continued to meditate. Though he was getting older, it finally felt like his scars were healing. He was still having trouble sleeping, however. His thoughts no longer kept him awake, but his body was used to little rest by now.  
He still kept tabs on the boy, though. Now a young man, Luke Skywalker seemed wonderfully ordinary in comparison to the instability and impulsiveness of his father. Their only similarity seemed to be an aptitude for flying. Many times Obi-Wan had watched a small Starhopper speed over the sand away from the moisture farms and towards Tocca Station, being expertly maneuvered in a way a normal farmer could never accomplish.  
Of all the traits Anakin could have passed on to his son, his skill as pilot was probably the best. Now, Obi-Wan had no idea about his daughter, but he wasn’t too worried. Her other father had that taken care of. 

______ _ _ _ _

__________After nearly twenty years of quiet solitude, being back on board a spacecraft felt jarring. So much had happened in the span of two days. One moment Obi-Wan was meditating in his room as usual, the next he was rescuing two droids and finally teaching Anakin’s son about the Jedi, and about his father. One moment he was guiding Luke away from Tattooine, and the next he was almost wishing he had never stayed around to guide him in the first place. The boy didn’t seem as shaken about Owen and Beru’s deaths as he had the night before, but Obi-Wan wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t need another Anakin on his hands, especially since he knew something was going to happen very soon, and he wanted to teach Luke as much as possible before it did. He had waited so long for this, but now, aboard a rickety smuggler’s vessel being piloted by a wise-cracking criminal and a wookiee, he wondered if maybe he should have started sooner.  
He hadn’t told Luke the truth about his father. How could he, when Luke had spoken of him so eagerly, too eagerly? It was too early. Luke couldn’t know yet, and the version Obi-Wan had told him was a truth. As far as he was concerned, Anakin had died long ago. Only a husk remained, and eventually Luke would have to face him on his own. Right now, all Obi-Wan could do was prepare, and train, and hope.  
He was still tired. 

______ _ _ _ _

__________The wounds from their first battle were long gone. He had thought the heartache had turned into scars, but he was wrong. He had always been so wrong.  
No. No! There was one thing he had been right about. The boy, Luke. Right now he was screaming, trying to get to Obi-Wan, to help him, to save him. Obi-Wan had been right about him, he had finally done better. That boy would save the galaxy.  
As Darth Vader cut him down, he was smiling. There was only one last thought in his head.  
_Now I can rest._


End file.
